Story ballet, full
evening work, divertissement, vehicle for virtuosity --"Don Quixote"
is all of these things, and yet less as much as more. In some ways, "Don
Quixote" is the victim of its own motley ambitions.

The ballet tries
hard to represent something it's not -- it's not exactly a story ballet
in the sense that "Romeo and Juliet" or "Onegin" are
story ballets. "Don Quixote" stops to showcase its dancers far
too often for that. Yet, it's not a divertissement ballet in the sense
that "Sleeping Beauty" or "Cinderella" are -- this
production holds too tightly to its storylines. I think this production
forgets that difference is its comedic engine. The sequences of narrative
shouldn't flow seamlessly into the sequences of pure dance -- they should
positively clash. Comic energy is released by the struggle for dominance
between narrative and dance.

In the typical production,
Act I starts with a pas de deux for Kitri and Basilio to win the audience's
good will. Their dancing is rudely interrupted when Lorenzo sees them
and tries to run off Basilio because more to Lorenzo's ambitious taste
is Don Gamache, the foppish local nobleman. As papa's favorite, Gamache
is of course a total doofus -- big bozo hair, poofy knee breeches, exaggerated
courtier's walk ... yup, every girl's dreamboat. Kitri shows how farcical
Gamache is when, in mock fighting she bests this degraded specimen of
the noblesse d'epee with her fan, pushes him over, and runs away. But
just as Gamache is about to complain to Lorenzo, the townspeople interrupt
him with their dance. In other words, it is comical for the introductory
dance to be interrupted by narrative sequences which in its turn is interrupted
by more dance.

McKenzie, who has
a penchant for tucking bits of expository mime in his 19th century ballets
(think of the prologues to the McKenzie "Swan Lake" and "Nutcracker"),
keeps the narrative line running throughout Act I's flower girls' dance,
Espada and Mercedes' dance, and the dance of the toreadors. Its great
fun to see Carlos Molina's Gamache and Isaac Stappas' Lorenzo veritable
side show-- drinking, toasting, eating, spitting, etc., but, that sense
of comic tension seems underdeveloped.

Of course I'm not
suggesting that the McKenzie production doesn't have dance. Nice juicy
virtuoso roles abound and never more so than in Saturday's matinee which
made an unusual departure from normal casting practices. Each act had
a different Kitri and Basilio. Paloma Herrera and Jose Manuel Carreño
were Act I's principals; Irina Dvorovenko and Maxim Belotserkovsky for
Act II; and Gillian Murphy and Marcelo Gomes for Act III "Kitri's
Wedding." Carreño, Belotserkovsky, and Gomes -- three different
kinds of virtuosity -- three different kinds of partnering. With Herrera,
Dvorovenko, and Murphy we had an unparalleled opportunity to closely study
the nuances possible in hard-bitten ballerina glamour. After the show
I almost felt obligated to go across the street to South Coast Plaza and
buy Movado watches and Mirella dancewear.

On Friday evening,
Angel Corella was his usual charismatic self and his emphasis on sheer
virtuosity did not look out of place. Though she didn't seem to have the
glamour which the role of Kitri needs, Xiomara Reyes made a good case
for a kinder, more approachable Kitri. Maybe she just seems so young that
its hard to see the maneater Kitri usually is. That is, except perhaps
in the introductory pas de deux. When Basilio tries to kiss Kitri, she
puts him down with a quick flick of her Spanish fan, taking a cue from
the recent "Terminator" movie: "Talk to the fan "

This production didn't
forget its Petipa finishes. A Petipa ballet teems with prop dances and
Spanish fans abounded. The girls were quite expert with their fans. Murphy
even fanned herself during her fouettes in the grand pas de deux. However,
in Mercedes' arrow dance, I didn't care for what looked more like a game
of lawn darts than a character dance.

A Petipa ballet also
demands large ensemble choreography for the girls of the corps -- in this
case the Act II "Dream" scene. I thought the demi-soloist variations
could have been more in unison but otherwise the "Dream" looked
very pretty. Boring but pretty. On Friday, Stella Abrera as Queen of the
Dryads was pure sugar. Renata Pavam as Amour was also a charmer. At the
matinee, Anne Milewski as Amour (curiously, a role en travestie) and Carmen
Corella as Queen of the Dryads were very watchable. As Kitri's friends,
Maria Riccetto and Erica Cornejo, looked good on Friday and Michele Wiles
and Stella Abrera were persuasive in this somewhat expanded roles -- they
schmoozed, flirted, and danced more than in other productions. They even
had solo variations inserted into the Act III big finale pas de deux.

The men's dancing
was not neglected. You practically couldn't take your eyes from Gennadi
Saveliev's shiny Espada in both performances. The Act I toreador's dance
could have been more uniform but they looked hot and sultry as if they
were doing tango and not ballet. The Act II gypsies' dance also looked
steamy, though I'm still puzzled as to why designer Santo Loquasto put
grown, muscular men in what looked like shortened red t-shirts and wife-beaters,
which showed their midriffs Britney and Shakira-style. On Saturday, Gypsy
Guy, Carlos Lopez was "on," (he'll be another Espada, no doubt).
And Gypsy Girl, Sarawanee Tanatanit, I'd like to see again.

I must admit that
I've never been that glad to see "Don Quixote." Though it isn't
my least favorite full evening ballet -- "Romeo and Juliet"
wins that special place -- neither does it seem so fatally flawed as to
actually become interesting -- like the Lubovitch "Othello"
-- or comedic -- like the "Le Corsaire" ABT toured to southern
California twice in recent years. "Don Quixote," I guess, just
tries to be everything to everybody.